Arika: The legend of the lost jewel

chapter 7

Four days passed, and life in the village carried on as usual. Kyle had been busy chopping wood for the fire when a small voice called out, “Brother Kyle!”
He turned to see Petty, a little girl from the village, bouncing excitedly on her feet. “Hello, Petty,” he greeted with a warm smile, resting the axe against a tree stump. “What brings you here?”
“The healer asks to see you,” she announced proudly, her eyes shining as if she’d just delivered the most important message in the world.
“Thank you for taking the time to come and tell me,” Kyle replied, ruffling her hair. Petty giggled, then skipped away, humming a cheerful tune.
Kyle gathered the chopped wood and carried it back to the house, handing it over to his brother, Xavier, who was busy stoking the fire. “I’ll be back,” Kyle said shortly, and with that, he headed to the healer’s cottage, a sense of unease creeping up on him.

When Kyle arrived, he found Mr. Robert standing by his cluttered shelf, pulling down an old, weathered book. The healer’s face was more serious than Kyle had ever seen it, and that alone made his pulse quicken. “How is she?” Kyle asked, trying to mask his anxiety.
“She’s still unconscious,” Mr. Robert said, flipping through the pages with a furrowed brow. “But she’s improving. However, there’s something I need to show you.” He paused, glancing up at Kyle, his eyes sharp. “This girl… she’s not just anyone, Kyle. There’s something extraordinary about her.”
Kyle leaned in closer, his heart pounding in his ears. “What do you mean?”
Mr. Robert finally stopped on a page, pointing to a passage written in faded ink. “Read this,” he urged.
Kyle’s eyes moved over the words:

My heart weighs heavy on me as I write this… I apologize for not being able to keep the promise I made to you, my love, but I believe Midora knows what she’s doing. She will guide our daughters on the path toward the paradise we dreamt of. It tears my heart into pieces to leave them behind, Ellen shows the signs of wisdom, calm and quiet, while the little one’s spirit is fierce and untamed. Please, whoever reads this, take care of them.

Kyle’s breath caught in his throat. “This… this can’t be real,” he whispered, staring at the passage as if the words might change.
Mr. Robert looked at him gravely. “This book was found with your sister, Eva, when she was just a baby. I’ve kept it all these years, I never went back or thought about it until now. It seems that the girl you found washed ashore is Eva’s twin and according to this passage they are guided by the ancient deity—Midora. Eva was given her name due to the description given by this passage after your parents observed her demeanour as a child.
Kyle stumbled back, his mind racing unsure what to make of it.
“ if Midora is truly watching over them, it means their destinies are far greater than any of us could have imagine.”  Mr. Robert spoke.
Kyle’s heart pounded in his chest. “What does this mean for our family? For Eva?”
Mr. Robert closed the book, his eyes narrowing with determination. “It means, young man, that these two shall bring a misfortune upon us, if anyone where to find out their true nature. “What should be done?” Kyle questioned.

The old man paused, “Well…they should be kept a secret, that is what we can do for now.”  He replied.
Kyle nodded, his mind already racing with the implications. But one thing was anything to keep his family safe.
As the king paced back and forth in the throne chamber, his anxiety was palpable. His movements were sharp, almost frantic, his mind focused entirely on the elusive stone that held the fate of the kingdom in its grasp. “We’re running out of time,” he muttered to himself. “Without that stone, this land and my position will crumble.”
His queen, seated on her ornate throne, sighed, her expression revealing a mix of frustration and exhaustion. “You’ve sent our son and your men in search of this so-called stone for years. We’ve been to so many auctions, I’ve lost count. How long will we keep chasing a myth?”
“Until I find it,” the king replied, his voice firm, unwilling to entertain the thought of failure. “Now, leave me to think.”

The queen stood, her patience wearing thin. “Our son will return in four days. He’s already communicated that much to me. Let this be the last time he’s forced to seek what you desire. Let him choose his own path. As for this kingdom, we will do what we must for our people—without the need for a mythical stone from a forgotten legend.”
Her words hung in the air like a challenge, but the king was unmoved. “The stone is real, and it will be mine. I intend for it to be. As for our son, he will do as I command. If he has any objections, he can speak them to me directly.”
The queen merely shook her head, turning on her heel. “Do whatever you like,” she muttered as she walked away, the soft echo of her footsteps fading into the distance.